


Kulaz Torak

by AngelsandMoose



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Souls - Freeform, Dark Souls meets The Hobbit, Got some other elements of other media in here, Much like Dark Souls, The crossover I don't think we ever asked for but here it is, This is going to get very dark and very upsetting, Whoever catches what is referenced throughout gets a shoutout, Will update tags as story progresses to keep from spoiling the readers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:24:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsandMoose/pseuds/AngelsandMoose
Summary: This is the first fanfic I've written in a very long time, and I'm slightly out of practice. But during my long time I was playing through Dark Souls and got the brilliant idea to cross over the original story of The Hobbit into this apocalyptic world that you play in the games. If you've read my other stuff you know I love to write dark shit, so here is a pre-warning (even in the tags, fellas) that this is going to get very dark, and that's only what I've outlined so far. And if you can not tell, this is not going to follow the original story fully, more like it's based off the journey.I hope whoever reads this and keeps up with my updates likes it, but I also really appreciate the creative criticism and want to know how I'm doing as a writer.  And updates will be irregular for the first few chapters, college is nearly done for the semester and then I'll be writing multiple chapters and post them once or twice a week, that's what I'm hoping and planning to happen.So without further ado, here is the prologue. Hope you all enjoy my lore blurb to set up the bloodbath that's going to follow.





	Kulaz Torak

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've written in a very long time, and I'm slightly out of practice. But during my long time I was playing through Dark Souls and got the brilliant idea to cross over the original story of The Hobbit into this apocalyptic world that you play in the games. If you've read my other stuff you know I love to write dark shit, so here is a pre-warning (even in the tags, fellas) that this is going to get very dark, and that's only what I've outlined so far. And if you can not tell, this is not going to follow the original story fully, more like it's based off the journey. 
> 
> I hope whoever reads this and keeps up with my updates likes it, but I also really appreciate the creative criticism and want to know how I'm doing as a writer. And updates will be irregular for the first few chapters, college is nearly done for the semester and then I'll be writing multiple chapters and post them once or twice a week, that's what I'm hoping and planning to happen. 
> 
> So without further ado, here is the prologue. Hope you all enjoy my lore blurb to set up the bloodbath that's going to follow.

A dark power grew beneath the eternally sleeping land of Arda. The world had always been asleep and had been, or so foretold the ancient words written in tomes buried beneath mountains of ash and bone. The world was never-ending, created by the powerful gods to keep their creations safe. However, one of the gods turned away from the light, from the others of his kind, and sought to create his own balance. Lord Morgoth turned on his people. He created armies out of the humans and other creatures, turning them into mindless husks and waging war upon all whom might oppose him. Though all immortal many of the Gods separated from one another, some choosing to hide and keep to themselves, to wait out the long periods of the war raging above. Others turned themselves into monstrous creatures that only made them more powerful, all while losing control of their mind and becoming enslaved by the betraying Lord. Ages passed, a darkness crept over the sky of the world—and once where the moon once lay within the sky, now held a black emptiness, an absence only held within a halo of flame. One by one, each of the gods fell, and the world froze. Spanning thousands of years for the darkness to find and slaughter each God, Morgoth possessing the souls of his fallen kin to twist the world and make it suffer and perish.  
The world now held in a suspended stillness, the living found an immortal power now held within themselves, those who died rose again as something else, and the world was engulfed in ash and the crumbled remains of powerful empires long since fallen.

Within the year TA 1999, four souls bore themselves before the last standing corrupt god, and used the powers which kept them alive to bind him within the last standing stronghold. Each one, a lord of man from his own hold, took their own power in their hands and stepped forth as the forerunners of the new age, seeking to bring an end to Lord Morgoth. Each man perished as they had taken corruption unto themselves, becoming the unkindled—the husks that walked the world tirelessly. Their bodies rotting around their skeletons and the dull glow of their corrupted heart shining through their thinning, leathery skin. Forever protecting the last castle of their kind from the impending dark within, while their own kin and lineage were cast out into the unforgiving wastes of a dying world.

For thousands of years the people of the four lords wandered and sought solace and safety, but found only death waiting with open and welcoming arms. One by one the lines of the lords fell. Great cities became tombs for the lost souls and bloodthirsty husks. Wanderers became murderers, plunderers, fighting to exist in the world that was dying around them.

But there was yet hope.

There was one who fought back, one who liberated cities and vanquished the darkness that threatened to swallow all who lived up with them. They became known only as the Kindled. Once t’was said by a wandering pilgrim that these souls bore the flames around their hearts and wandered into the open jaws of death, seeking to force open the gates and return the world to those living. These warriors, knights of their time, were known to kill the monsters that crawled from the abyss, absolving the husks and lighting the fires once more.

One of the four lords who bound the last God within the mountain still had a flame within their lineage. Thror Durin was a Kindled knight, braving through the wastes with a small band of others, only to fall before the gates of the abyssal watchers, by the hands of the husks of his own forebears. He fought through waves of the husks and monsters that lay within his path, meeting other stragglers along the way and rescuing them from the darkness. In the end, he fell to the hands of Lord Durin, what once was the man who began their bloodline, now a shambling corpse—forcing Thror over the ledge into the abyss. Silence found his end, not a triumphant final cry. The lingering silence and the shuffling of the Watchers. Not even a body to mark the fallen knight.

The abyssal guardians had since become corrupt, killing all those who may try to approach the mountain and rekindle the binds of the gate. Slowly but surely darkness had been seeping through the growing cracks, the world once again dying but slowly and painfully. As the Kindled, they sought to keep the gates locked—or even more—to kill the Last God once and for all.

However ancient scholars speak of the Last Gods’ demise, and how the world will cease to exist were he to fall. The only hope for life on Arda would be to keep the small flame flickering alive until the next soul to sacrifice themselves to the abyss.

 

 

The year is now in TA 4241, as the last surviving scholars keep track of the years passed.  Thror Durin never returned from his journey, and hope of kindling the flame, the gate remaining closed, was lost. There never lay an ending to his tale, the knowledge of his demise laying within the thought that he too had become an husk with his kin, laying in wait for the next soul to stumble upon the sacred grounds of Erebor. Until one soul stepped forward to become a new Kindled knight, the remaining heir of the Durin line—Thorin. Though he was young, now immortal as the rest of his kin, he sought to retake his family’s castle and vanquish the darkness forever. However now all but scraps of the family records had been lost to time, only holding a very old and worn tome that held illegible writing and a map, illustrating the lands of how they once were, far long before the ruins now lay in place. And a single worn, rusted iron key. Thorin never knew what became of his elder kin, and though many who still survived believed the same fate to belong to Thorin’s father, Thrain, the heir knew better.

His father fell not even a few miles from the ruins of the city of Belegost, fell by one of the last giants that roamed the country side without anyone to keep him away from the city walls. The corrupt creature had claimed all the lives of those who even made an attempt to leave the ruined lingering stronghold of humanity.  

The young heir forged out a quest of his own, determined to find his own way to the ancient peak and seal the gate once again, to bring hope to the surviving people for even a few years more. But the young prince was determined, and sealing the gate was not enough for him, he was poised to kill the last God on their planet, and pull their existence out of the abyss of darkness.


End file.
